In the lee of the black rocks I stood overawed-
no gentle winds blew;
the sea-god was angered; no seabirds flew.
The voice of Poseidon bellowed and boomed;
out of the sea-cave wild water roared-
The sea-god of Homer bestrode the waves;
in eddies of spume his spittle described
Enveloped in sea-spray I breathed his salt-breath:
in the lee of the black rocks I stood overawed;
powerless and small
in this presence of death … .